


Summer Night

by iamconfusedcius



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5209841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamconfusedcius/pseuds/iamconfusedcius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt for a follower giveaway prize: Mikasa & Jean with some naked comfort cuddles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Night

He was sweating, the muscles along his jaw drawn taut and clenched as his eyelids flickered rapidly. It was happening again.

"Jean!" urged Mikasa hoarsely, caught somewhere between a shout and a whisper, trying not to trigger the nightmarish memories that came in these small hours. It wasn't every night that the terrors would come, bringing the bitter taste of pain and sadness to his lips, but they came often enough.

His arm flailed in the dark, striking the pitcher of water beside the bed they shared, and with a loud crack it shattered against the wall. Jean flinched at the sound, and Mikasa quickly wrapped her arms around him from behind. He strained against her, his eyes wild with fear as his breath came in panicked bursts, but she held him all the same.

It was a few minutes before his breathing became more measured and Mikasa eased her hold on him. His eyes began to focus on the items around him; the painted mountain landscape that hung on the far wall, the shattered pitcher on the floor, her face. She did not ask him what he'd seen before, she never did. She'd seen it herself.

Sometimes after an episode left him exhausted on the sweat drenched sheets, Mikasa would find herself feeling guilty. It was true that they all bore the scars, but some were more apparent than others. Some were simply an absence, silence where a voice once called...

"I'm sorry about that," he finally said, gesturing toward the broken remains dimly lit by the moonlight. There was a thin cut that spread across the back of his hand, a line of blood threatening to drip on the sheets beside him. Mikasa kissed his shoulder and kept her arms around him, saying nothing.

They lay in silence, their breath moving in and out of sync, each inhale searching for answers but coming up empty. It wasn't a question, it simply was. She could feel the heat of his flesh against her, their naked bodies pressed together despite the warmth inside the room. Mikasa blinked her eyes back open. Tired as she was she wouldn't be finding rest for hours to come.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Jean shrugged, still lying in the same position he'd been in since waking. "A little better, but I don't think I can fall asleep again tonight. I'm afraid if I try to close my eyes they'll be there, waiting." He sat up, his feet firmly planted on the floor and his head in his hands. "Maybe I should try taking a walk, clear my head."

"Aren't you exhausted?" Mikasa asked, trying not to sound overly concerned.

"Yeah, but I just need some fresh air, I won't go far."

Mikasa untangled herself from the blanket and crossed the room to the window, opening it wide. The curtains fluttered gently as a breeze wound its way through the city streets, cooling the sweat that dotted her face and neck. The stifling heat abated and things didn't feel so overwhelming, so oppressive. They could work through this too.

"Let me get you a glass of water first," Mikasa added, favoring him with a smile that she hoped wasn't too strained. "And let me patch up your hand."

Jean was looking better as she wrapped his hand with gauze and bound it. The wound was shallow and would heal quickly; they'd each had much worse before. Their eyes found one another's, acknowledging the pain and that they'd gotten through it together. They always did, eventually.

"Thank you," Jean said, smiling. The circles under his eyes were still noticeable, but not so bad now. He brushed the stray hairs from her face with his bandaged hand and leaned close, kissing her gently. The soft warmth of his lips still brought a flutter to her heart. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, bringing out the subtleties surrounding her in contrasting light. _'Fear of the thing is often worse than the thing itself,'_ she remembered, as she always did. Mikasa kissed him back hungrily, throwing herself into it with a practiced familiarity.

After a few moments, she pulled away. "Still need to clear your head?"

"I'm sure I can find something here to distract myself. I _am_ pretty exhausted, not sure how taking a walk would help with that."

"Well, you wouldn't go too far, of course."

"Seems like a lot of effort when I'm already feeling much better. The breeze is doing wonders," said Jean, gesturing toward the open window. He did seem much better. The eyes she'd fallen in love with years ago were alive once more, and the smirk that plagued the corner of his smile had returned. Mikasa stroked the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger as they sat together.

"I suppose you are looking more yourself again. Maybe rest is doing the trick after all," she teased, reclining back onto the bed. She could feel his eyes slip down across her body, his bare chest covered in gooseflesh despite the warm air. She crossed her arms below her breasts and turned slightly to face him. Jean shuddered slightly and she smiled.

"You've been so helpful tonight," Jean answered hesitantly, fumbling with his, "and I haven't properly thanked you." He leaned closer, kissing her lightly along the neck and moving downward, ever so slowly. Mikasa exhaled in a soft moan, had she been holding her breath? Jean made his way to her nipple, licking slowly and teasing with flicks of his tongue. She could feel the tension rippling from her body, her thoughts slowly circling as they were swept away before taking hold. She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing him against her in the darkness, and let go of the troubles that too often came between them.

Jean's lips finished their work, and he lightly tweaked her nipples as he began to move lower. Mikasa groaned, but stopped him. "You should be recovering, not doing all the work. Relax."

"If you say so," he answered, smirking again. He rolled onto his back, stretching his arms behind his head. Mikasa ran a finger slowly up his leg, just grazing his skin before reaching the hardness of his cock. She gripped him tightly, his breath a rapid inhale that spoke of pleasure and longing.

She sat above him, straddling his waist as she rubbed her wetness against him. Jean's hands found their way to her hips, gripping them as his thumbs pressed firmly into the flesh. Mikasa groaned and locked her hands over his. She could feel him against her as she moved her hips, his lips lightly parted as his cock begged to slide deep inside her. She savored the moment in between, the anticipation of what she desperately wanted even as she kept it from herself. She waited at the precipice for as long as she could, at the edge of her release, then Mikasa closed her eyes and let the rhythm take him in.


End file.
